


Holiday Drabbles

by scientificapricot



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scientificapricot/pseuds/scientificapricot
Summary: Short holiday fics from katie-dub's list of prompts on Tumblr. Will likely be updated when the 2021 holiday season rolls around :)
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 15\. Eating too much at holiday feasts and feeling slightly overfull.
> 
> Sometime post season six.

“Bloody hell, Swan, is it considered normal to feel like this after a holiday party?” 

Emma smiled, watching her husband as he lowered himself next to her on the couch. “I think if you’re not at least a bit uncomfortable you’re doing it wrong.” 

Killian groaned dramatically. “I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten that much food in one night.”

“Me either.”

“Discomfort aside, it was… nice.” He glanced over at her, thoughts of hungry nights and lean times as children flashing in both of their thoughts.

She reached over, taking his hand and tracing her thumb over his silver wedding band. “It was.” 

They sat there in peaceful silence for a moment, gazing at the Christmas tree lights adorning the magnificent specimen currently in their living room. Emma tucked her legs underneath her and leaned her head against Killian’s shoulder, to which he responded with a light kiss against her hair. 

“I do believe your mother has a magic touch with appetizers.” 

She smiled. “Those crostini were pretty amazing.” 

“Aye, and the bacon-wrapped shrimp.” 

“I knew you’d like that.” 

A thumping on the stairs alerted them to Henry’s descent. They shifted over so he could squeeze in between them, warmth flooding Emma’s heart when Killian wrapped his arm around Henry’s shoulder and Henry’s head took her spot on his.

“We  _ need  _ to make that cheese dip again.” 

Killian hummed contentedly. “Agreed lad.”

“We brought the extra home. It’s in the fridge if you want some,” Emma offered. 

“Thanks, Mom, but I might actually explode if I eat another bite.” 

She laughed. “What happened to that teenager appetite?” 

“I think he’s finally found the limit, Swan.” Killian teasingly nudged at Henry with his hook. “I guess that just means more for us.” 

Henry tried and failed to look offended. “I’ll duel you guys for it tomorrow,” he said as he slumped further down into the couch cushions. 

“What, as two against one? That hardly seems like good form.”

Emma raised her brow at Killian. “Who said we were gonna be on the same team?” 

“You wound me, love, I thought we agreed that we make an excellent team.” 

“We did, but that was before cheese dip was on the line.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll beat both of you.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, kid.” 

-/-

The sword fight turns into a snowball fight, which Henry wins.

They share the cheese dip. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9\. Sparkles on holiday cards catching the lights.
> 
> Modern au.

_ Eleven days before. _

Emma doesn’t notice the envelope at first, what with the slick ground floor hallways of her building and the balancing act she’s managing with her mail and the groceries. It’s only through a truly wondrous feat of juggling that she gets her keys in her door and herself and all her things in the apartment. 

The groceries get set on the counter, the mail on the small table. Though she is tempted to just kick off her heels, change out the tight honey trap dress and into pajamas, and collapse on the couch with a large mug of hot chocolate, she does the adult thing and puts the groceries away. The heels still come off first thing, the dress soon after. She still makes that mug of hot chocolate, topping it with whipped cream and stirring it with a candy cane, and sits down at the table to sort the mail. 

Emma tosses two advertisements for holiday retail sales, and sets aside the phone bill to pay tomorrow. She pauses at a coupon for a nearby tree lot, sipping her drink thoughtfully. There are some Christmas decorations in the apartment: a few snow globes, red cinnamon-scented candles, and green garland on the windows. But no tree. 

She hadn’t been planning on one. It was more his thing anyways. 

She saves the coupon. 

All that’s left is the green envelope, it’s edges sealed neatly. Emma flips it over, and nearly chokes on her hot chocolate. 

It’s, without a doubt, his handwriting. She’d recognize it anywhere. 

She excitedly rips the envelope open, and traces her fingers over the subtle red glitter of the poinsettia petals drawn on the front. They’re beautiful, but it’s what’s written inside the card that makes her tear up. 

_ —I miss you so much my heart aches— _

He was always dramatic. 

_ —Liam and I have got the business up and running, well ahead of what he planned— _

A surprise to only two of them, probably.

_ —I love the bloody git and all that, but that’s the last favor he’s cashing in on for a good long while— _

She lets out a laugh at that.

_ —he’s already found an assistant, and hired her yesterday— _

Emma bites her lip, afraid to hope. 

_ —since my services are no longer required, I’ve bought a ticket home— _

Home.

_ —if all goes well I’ll be back with you before Christmas, my love.  _

Killian’s coming home. 

Even as she takes out her phone to tease him for sending the news in a letter of all things (she still doesn’t understand his fondness for traditional mail over the instant communication of texting, but loves him anyway), a beaming smile sits on her face. 

_ -/- _

_ Nine days before.  _

The card has been set on the shelf above the TV. Emma looks at it at least ten times a day, and reads it over again at least twice a day. 

A real poinsettia plant, matching the ones on the card, sits on the coffee table. 

_ -/- _

_ Eight days before.  _

The coupon is with the proprietor of the tree lot. A five-foot spruce tree is next to the couch in the apartment. The white lights strung around it reflect in the glitter on Killian’s card. 

_ -/- _

_ Five days before.  _

After two failed attempts, and with the help of Mary Margaret, Emma bakes his favorite gingerbread cookies and her favorite double chocolate chip cookies. 

_ -/- _

_ Four days before. _

She cleans the entire apartment, more than ready to have him back to help keep the mess in check. (She swears she doesn’t just love him for his meticulous cleaning habits and organization skills. They’re just a plus.) 

Two new hand-carved ornaments from a local shop hang on the tree, a swan and a three-masted ship. 

_ -/- _

_ Two days before. _

His flight is delayed, so they spend five hours on a video call together, making each other laugh and discussing Christmas and New Year’s plans. Killian notices the card on the shelf and smiles. He also notices the new ornaments and teases her for being so sentimental, then shows her the two he’s bringing home. She affectionately tells him it takes one to know one.

_ -/- _

_ One day before.  _

Another snow globe has found its way into their apartment. Emma spends most of her dinner at Mary Margaret and David’s place distracted, sneaking away frequently to check her phone for texts. She takes a thirty minute break from wrapping presents with them to talk with Killian when he calls. They send her home with understanding smiles and well-wishes and love for him, and reminders to be back at two o’clock on Christmas day. 

When she gets home, she puts the presents under the tree and hangs a sprig of mistletoe in the bedroom doorway. 

_ -/- _

_ The day he comes home.  _

Emma gets home from work to find the lights of the apartment already on, including those on the tree, Killian’s card still on the shelf, and the enticing aroma of Thai take-out wafting over from containers in the kitchen. None of those things, however, are as wonderful as when Killian comes out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair and smelling like their soap that sits in the shower. The towel ends up on the floor along with her purse as they run to meet each other in the small space still separating them. The kiss after that is even better, full of  _ I-missed-you’s _ and  _ I-love-you’s _ .

They’re not really under the mistletoe, but neither of them care.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 34\. Eating hot breakfasts to warm you for the day ahead. 
> 
> College au.

Emma dropped her head onto the desk and groaned. It was going to happen. She was going to murder whoever was blasting Christmas songs on her floor. The dorm building would become a crime scene, she’d go to prison, Killian would have to talk to her through a phone in those glass cubicles. 

But hey, she probably wouldn’t have to take the pre-calc exam later today. 

No, she sighed internally, murder so close to the holiday break wasn’t worth it. Just one more day and she’d be free for two and a half weeks. 

Maybe she and Killian could move to the student center instead for their study session, if he ever showed up. It wasn’t like him to be this late. 

Her phone dinged, lighting up with a text notification.

**_K: On my way. Sorry I’m late._ **

**_E: It’s okay, see you in a bit._ **

She figured she might as well find something for breakfast while she waited. Fuel for her brain and all that. Upon examining her mini-fridge and small cabinet, however, she found that food of any sort was scarce. 

Right.

They were going home tomorrow, so she hadn’t shopped for groceries this week. And the late night stress-eating (god she hated exam week) had polished off most of the food that was left, except for half of a Subway sandwich of questionable age and a bag of Taki’s. Neither of which were very good breakfast food. 

This time her head met the floor as she starfished on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her dorm room. If Belle, her roommate, were still here, she probably would have had a granola bar or something that Emma could beg for (though Belle was so damn nice she’d probably give her five granola bars before she’d ever need to beg), but her last exam was two days ago and so she’d already left. 

Emma sighed.

The convenience store on the ground floor was always an option. 

She’d just retrieved her phone to text Killian where she was going and to let himself in when there was a knock at the door. 

She huffed out a laugh, getting up to tease her boyfriend for his gentlemanly ways (though in actuality she did appreciate his respect for her privacy). When she pulled the door open, she realized that he couldn’t have opened it on his own if he wanted to, given that his arms were laden with brown paper bags stamped with the logo from the local diner. 

He grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he came in. “Good morning, love”.

“Hi.” She stopped him from going any further to get a proper kiss, tasting coffee on his lips, and took the bags from him so he could remove his coat and scarf. “What’s all this?” A positively heavenly aroma was wafting from the white styrofoam containers in the bags, one that smelled like--

“Breakfast. And the reason for my tardiness, though I hope you’ll forgive me, Granny’s was a madhouse today.” 

Emma put the bags on the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his skull. “You bought breakfast for us?”

Killian’s hand and prosthetic came to rest at her back, and he gently bumped their foreheads together. “I figured we deserved to treat ourselves, seeing how it’s the end of the semester and we have, to use your words, kicked ass.” 

“Damn right we did.” 

“And we’ll kick pre-calc’s ass too.”

“With breakfast from Granny’s? Hell yes. And thank you, you’re the best.”

“I know.”

He got a swat on the head for that.

They sat on blankets on the floor, eating scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and piping hot cinnamon rolls as they rifled through notes on tangents and polynomials. Emma didn’t murder the person playing Christmas music, but did loudly scold them _(_ _“Swan, I could hear you from here”)._

Okay, maybe she yelled a bit.

She thinks it was justified.


End file.
